


don't get too close, it's dark inside

by teenagedenigma



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Depression, Eating Disorders, M/M, Sad Louis, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, and then the other boys join in, because when is he not with me, having a boyfriend doesn't doesn't fix people but it can give them a reason to fix themselves, louis is sad but harry loves him, love yourselves, of course that's not how it works in real life, so of course doting best friend turned boyfriend harry makes it all go away, this is sort of like a timeline of harryandlouis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 02:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2835002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenagedenigma/pseuds/teenagedenigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>when louis was five, he was scared of the dark.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't get too close, it's dark inside

**Author's Note:**

> title from imagine dragons' _demons_
> 
> i didn't really proofread that well, so any mistakes are my fault. sorry. enjoy?

when louis was five, he was scared of the dark.

he'd always had an overactive imagination. creative, his mother would say. brilliant, his teachers would say. daft, his sister would say. he could paint himself any utopian paradise and live in it for as long as he liked. that's how he met harry on his first day of preschool; he was a knight, saving the quiet, doe eyed prince from the vicious man eating dragon (which was really more of a little girl with blonde hair. he and taylor never really get along after that.)

but, his imagination wasn't always a safe place. some nights, as he was lying in bed, he'd hear a creak from the hallway— he grew up in a dinosaur of a house— and instantly his mind would be filled with thoughts of monsters, or burglars, or kidnappers, or murderers. he'd lay perfectly still for hours, praying to a god he wasn't sure would even listen to spare him and his family. he didn't get much sleep those nights.

...

when louis was in the second grade, he fell in love. his mother told him it wasn't love, that he was only infatuated, but he knew better. he knew eleanor was the one.

harry frowned when he told him.

…

when louis was in the fifth grade, eleanor broke up with him. when he asked why, she told him that she didn't like boys. at his confusion, she further elaborated that she liked girls, particularly blonde ones who could write pretty words. he called harry at 6:00 that night. harry showed up at 6:13 with ice cream and all of louis' favourite movies on dvd. louis cried, and harry held him.

...

when louis was in the sixth grade, his father left. louis wasn't so sad, not really. he and his father had never really gotten along. he was perfectly content with his mothers and his sisters and harry, who had been his only true constant since the day they'd met. louis had everything he could ever need.

he was fine.

...

when louis was in the eighth grade, he cut himself for the very first time. it wasn't really deep or big or too terrible, honestly. just a little scratch across his forearm. as he sat and watched little crimson beads ascend from the wound, he said the word in his head. he replayed it over and over and over until it no longer sounded like a word, but felt like a truth.

_faggot._

...

in the ninth grade, harry came out as pansexual. being the idiot louis was, he asked if that meant harry had slept with the pan he used to make pancakes. harry had rolled his eyes exasperatedly and said that no, it meant he would fall in love with a person regardless of their gender. louis asked if harry was in love. he said he wasn't.

louis was.

...

when he was in the tenth grade, louis stopped eating. he grew tired of walking past mirrors and seeing his gut stick way out, tired of seeing his bum jiggle with every step, tired of how thick his thighs and arms were. he never purged anything, was too scared to try. his mother asked him if he was feeling well, if everything was okay at school. he said everything was fine.

he wasn't sure when, but he had become a damn good liar.

...

in the eleventh grade, harry asked louis to meet him at the bridge at the far end of the park. when he got there, louis was met with the sight of at least thirty lit candles, a blanket spread out under a dinner harry had obviously cooked himself, and harry. harry with his stupid curls and stupid green eyes and stupid grin. louis almost broke down crying.

...

when he was in the twelfth grade, louis almost killed himself.

he'd stuffed his phone under his mattress, taken off all his clothes, and stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom. pinching at the fat, poking at it, loathing it. he'd started to count the scars, but lost count after fifty-two. he'd cried until his throat was hoarse and his eyes burned. all he saw in the mirror was worthlessness. a waste of space.

after redressing, he walked to the train station on the other side of town and stood at the railing. the next train would speed by at 7:00. five minutes to go. he stared in the direction from which it would come, watching, waiting. four minutes. he grabbed at his stomach and his thighs, digging in until his fingers turned white from the pressure. three. he felt a hot tear slide down his face, followed by many more. two.

"louis!"

he turned at the sound of his name falling from an angel, his angel's lips. harry was running at him, hair wild and eyes frenzied. louis froze, unable to move, to function. he could hear the whistle of the train, coming closer and closer and closer and—

harry grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back, tugging the smaller boy into his body and propelling them backwards. louis was full on sobbing at this point, his face pressed against harry's chest, tears soaking through his shirt. the two continued to stumble away from the tracks, harry burying his face into louis' hair.

"lou, babe, no, don't leave me, please, no," he sobbed into the shorter boy's hair, “i love you, you can't, no." louis just kept crying.

...

they went to harry's house. he sat louis down on his bed and demanded an explanation. (it sounded more like begging that demanding.)

louis stared at his feet for a good five minutes before looking back up at the heartbroken boy in front of him. he rolled his sleeves up hesitantly, always so damn hesitant. harry's breath caught in his throat before he let out a ragged sigh, rushing forward to gather up his boy in his arms. his boy, who he was so madly, desperately in love with. his boy, who he had almost lost.

that night, harry pressed his love into every inch of the shattered pieces of his boyfriend. he tried to stitch pieces together with his words, tried to put the light back in louis' eyes with promises that he intended to keep. he was so in love.

...

they graduated and went to college together, louis to be a drama teacher, harry to be a lawyer. they roomed together in the dorms for two years before they could afford a small apartment, both of their mothers helping with the pay. the boys spent every spare moment together, and even made three incredible new friends who lived in the apartment across the hall. it was good. great, even.

harry held louis as close as he could at all times. niall teased them, liam thought it was precious, and zayn seemed to understand. harry was protecting louis, was keeping him close so as to guard him. he wasn’t going to lose his sunshine.

louis got better, for the most part. he stopped cutting (only because harry threw out all his blades (louis got really mad, at first, but he understood)), and he started eating again. it was hard, but his boy held his hand the entire time, squeezing when it was a little harder. he was still discontent with himself, but it was hard to care when his big doofus of a boyfriend was so in love with him, sadness and all.

...

when louis was twenty-six, harry proposed. it wasn't at a fancy dinner, or on the beach, or in the park where they'd had their first date. harry proposed in their living room, surrounded by liam, zayn, a rather greasy niall, pizza, and beer. he got down on one knee in front of the most beautiful boy he'd ever known, would ever know, and poured his heart out. louis cried. the other boys pretended not to notice as they congratulated the two.

...

when louis was sixty-five, his and harry's daughter came to visit them. she brought along her six year old son, who had the second most beautiful pair of green eyes louis'd ever seen, and the second loudest mouth harry'd ever heard. their grandson listened intently as harry told him all about how, when he was a little boy, his entire life was suddenly thrown off kilter by a kid with the most lively laugh anyone had ever heard, one that was impossible not to fall in love with.

as louis watched on with fond eyes, he was brought sixty years back to when he'd met the love of his life. he'd been so sure that his life's mission was to protect the shy little boy, to always keep him safe. and it was. he'd just never expected the other boy would need to protect him, too.

...

sometimes louis' imagination still gets the best of him. sometimes he still gets scared of the dark, but not the dark in his house. he gets scared of the dark in his head.

but now, he has his own knight in shining armour to protect him.

**Author's Note:**

> i write when i'm sad and sometimes it helps
> 
> [tumblr](http://teenagedenigma.tumblr.com/)


End file.
